


Fever

by scribblemyname



Category: The Immortals - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, F/M, Pining, Romance, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4135278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/scribblemyname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daine is his magelet, his little wild one, beautiful and full of fire and compassion and love. He thinks he has always loved her. He tells himself she is a magelet, a little one, far too young for him to see the beauty in the curve of her cheek and the curl of her hair. He tells himself he's her mentor and she trusts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coyotesuspect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyotesuspect/gifts).



_This is the way Daine loves him first: he is a hawk and he is beautiful._

* * *

Numair remembers sometimes how it felt to have Daine's warm, healing touch run through him, the way she smelled when she leaned over him. She was worried then for his safety, for his health. He wasn't eating, and he was in her care. He was a hawk, and Daine loved every animal she ever encountered.

He remembers, dreamlike, her words over his head, _"You're being a fine, brave lad. Your ma'd be fair proud of you."_

Numair remembers from the beginning that he was always at least a little bit in love.

* * *

_This is the way Daine loves him second: he is human and, when she is grieving, he makes her laugh._

* * *

Daine loves every animal she ever encounters, even the immortals that have invaded the lands of Tortall. She saved a dragon in her mother's belly. She made peace with the griffins. When she hears that the unicorns have an outbreak of fever and need a healer, grim-faced and without hesitation, she packs up her bag to go.

"Daine—"

But Numair hardly gets the chance to object before she tells him, "I'm going. They need me, and I'm the only one who can do it."

He sighs, having known from the beginning he would get nowhere with cautioning her. "Humans usually can't contract the unicorn fever—"

"Then no need to worry about me," Daine replies quickly.

"But you're different, magelet," Numair reminds her. "You have wild magic and you may catch it through your link. _Cloud_ may catch it."

Daine loves every animal, but she loves her mare more than most. She lifts her chin. "I'll ask Cloud if she's willing to go."

Stubborn Daine. Cloud would be willing to charge into the realms of chaos for Daine. Numair gives up argument and packs his own things to look after Daine.

* * *

Daine is his magelet, his little wild one, beautiful and full of fire and compassion and love. He thinks he has always loved her. He tells himself she is a magelet, a little one, far too young for him to see the beauty in the curve of her cheek and the curl of her hair. He tells himself he's her mentor and she trusts him, and he loves her but not like that. Not like...

* * *

_This is how Daine loves him third: he is a mage and he teaches her to know herself._

* * *

Daine pushes long into the night, healing unicorns and draining herself of strength and power. She pours herself out and the unicorns love her for it. Numair works beside her doing all he can, and when he has done that and it is late at night, candles glowing through the darkness, he draws Daine with her sweat-damp hair and glazed eyes away from the work she lingers at and pushes her gently toward bed.

"Come, magelet. You need your strength."

She lets him put food in her hands and water in her cup, then a blanket over her limp form before he blows the candles out.

* * *

In the morning, Numair feeds Cloud. She squeals when she sees him, pawing at the ground, then the air. Whatever she sees, it's not Numair.

At first, he thinks that Cloud has fallen ill, but when he hurries out of the stable to go tell Daine, he sees the wild flocks of various kinds of birds careening in meaningless shapes and patterns. He can't think for a moment, can't feel. "Daine," he whispers. She's a wild mage and she has only grown in power since he met her.

* * *

_This is how Daine loves him next: he tries so hard to protect her and she doesn't need it, it's annoying, and he needs protection just as much. He's her friend. Ozorne tries to kill him, and she_ loves _him, so she goes to war._

* * *

Daine thrashes and moans, delirious with fever, crying out to visions of family she no longer has. Numair gives her everything he has and everything that should help. He throws himself into caring for her because if he's exhausted and saving her, then he doesn't have to think of how unbearably painful it would be to lose her. She's beautiful and he loves her and she's too young and he's too old and she deserves her mentor, her friend, her fellow mage instead of this besotted helpless swain, but he strokes her hair and begs her not to die.

* * *

_This is how Daine loves Numair: to lose him would be to lose an arm or a leg, or perhaps her very heart._

* * *

She is dying, and he cannot save her. He clips a small lock of her hair and holds her hand as he tries the magics that aren't supposed to work on unicorn fever. Unicorns _are_ magic and whatever illnesses manage to take them are highly resistant to any work a mage can do.

"Water, rest. Make sure she's eating," says the village healing woman. "There is little else to do."

That works for ordinary fevers—sometimes. But unicorns were dying until Daine came.

Numair prays to the crotchety old Badger who's supposed to protect her. "Come out and save her!"

* * *

The fever breaks. A small part of his soul (the only part that matters) stops dying.

* * *

"Numair?"

"Daine."

He hides the way he wants to drink in the sight of her hungrily, the way he wants to crush her in his arms and kiss her under the warm relief of friendship. "I am never letting you treat an immortal epidemic ever again."

She mumbles something but it doesn't sound like a protest.

Never mind. He knows if it came to it and she was feeling well, she'd never let him stop her. He is helpless against her stubborn will and wishes fiercely, every time, he could find some way to tuck her away safe. He loves her for it because he knows she'll never let him.

* * *

_"I know I love you. Maybe I always have—"_

* * *

He almost loses her again and this time, he can't hide it or keep it inside himself. He crushes her to him and kisses her, and somehow impossibly, she's kissing him back.

No, it's not impossible. It's his fault. He's always with her, always keeping other men away. It's gratitude, it's proximity, it's wrong, and it's his fault. But it's too sweet, so he doesn't stop.

"Goddess bless," he whispers. "Magelet, I thought I'd lost you."

But he hasn't.

She tucks herself against him, and he knows he hasn't and he won't.


End file.
